Halloween is Officially Dead

When you're driving to the Library at 3pm in the afternoon, the last thing you expect to see are tons of children in costumes being dragged about by parents with fairy wands walking about like the living dead Apocalypse... except with candy and in daylight.

And it wasn't even Halloween yet! Blasphemy!!!

I know last Halloween I was bitching about how the holiday wasn't like it was, with a pall of danger in the air and slow moving cars that would drop children off at very lighted doorways in a quasi special ops drop zone mission. But now, we're not only doing the halloweening in midday, but not even on the 31st!?

Are parents hoping that by not even trick or treating on all hallows eve, that maybe they'll fool all those hidden evil people who insert razor blades into popcorn balls? I always figured, even as a child, that putting foreign objects into a popcorn ball or apple "treat" was way too much trouble and hard work to go through to ruin a child's holiday. It's easier to just give out pennies or toothbrushes, isn't it? Always ruined mine. Hell, those "fun" sized candies was enough insult. Fun, I guess, is the size of a baby's thumb. And really, did anyone one get to urge to rush home and take a big ol' bite of the green or orange colored ball of popcorn?

Come to think of it, no one has ever thought to check those eggs on Easter that the youngsters just find on the lawn. Here's a big clue: Bunnies don't lay eggs. They're stolen merchandise. And If I was a bunny trying to hide me eggy treasures, I think I'd booby trap a few to discourage any pilferage from the evil humans broodlings. And no sane parent would let a scruffy old homeless guy brake into your home and give an unmarked boxed item to a child, but lets forget about all caution come December 25th as long as he wears red and is "jolly". I don't trust the demand that you get a free gift if you only sit on his lap.

But Halloween. It's now not safe.

No longer do you see those plastic half masks and satin-y costumes. The trend for teens now is slutty versions of normal attire. I saw a lot of teen girls walking about today with "sexy football" costumes. These were just tights, a tiny mid-cut tee with a random number on it, and a black slash makeup under the eyes. Want more proof?

Oh, and Feel a bit ashamed.

I saw a little girl dressed in a plushy white tube and surrounded with some slabs of cardboard and a string dragging on the ground. I am very very ashamed, but I thought she was dressed as a tampon with a cardboard applicator. My first thought was that her parents are very cruel hateful people. Most parents who are cheapasses, just dress you up as a hobo, a gypsy, or even a ghost/klansman like I was inadvertently so long ago. And that's when I became even more ashamed...

I finally figured out she was supposed to be a vanilla wafer and one of her straps for a wafer half just broke. But com'on! That was either a incredibly brilliant visionary costume, or mom and dad just don't know what a vanilla wafer is supposed to look like. I guess it could have been worse, and they could have tried to dress her up as a ding-dong with black-face. I probably would have gone to hell for that one.

So, Halloween is officially dead.  Boo.

And thanks to costumes like these, Not only am I not scared of Freddy Krugger, I'm kinda looking forward to a dream visit...

The Grocery List

I'm a dude, but somehow, it's quite entertaining to go shopping for food and crap!

the only rules are to never go grocery shopping when you're hungry, or just got paid: You'll never get out alive. Trust me. It's a deadly social trap. So, for today's blog, I shopped, and made notes! Exciting! I know!!

But, let me get this off of my chest right now. Parking.

Some of the worst drivers are trolling the parking lots of America's food stores. You see old bee hived women, or more to the point, a pair of knuckles on a huge steering wheel of a boat of a car, and I hear the theme from jaws as they moto about like an evil flying Dutchman of death. Oh, I have been hit by old people in these lots before, and I was walking. Fell over the back trunk of this Volvo, and the elderly gentleman had the nerve to give me the stink-eye! Like my plan was to stage dive his wax job! Parents say don't play in traffic: nay, don't walk about in shopping parking lots.

Shall I even go into those trucks, vans and hummers that park in those little "compact" labeled parking spaces? Some even park in two spots diagonally so you cant park next to them. Say, doesn't the market have raw eggs? Hmm...

On with the ritual of wrestling a plastic cart free from it's brethren! A quick scan of it's interior to make sure there are no used diapers, empty coffee cups, or a used corn dog stick inside, then onward through those amazing magical Star Trek self opening doors.

I'm told these door are to keep critters out. I don't see how. Anything over an ounce will open the doors. Maybe bees and deer ticks? I have seen stray dogs wandering markets before...

They got v8 juice and "healthy choice" v8 juice. Was there something unhealthy about the previous regular one? One rotten vegetable maybe. Or a finger from a bottling accident, who knows? Kind of makes you wanna go "healthy".

Lookie! Books for sale that promise to make you thin, tell your sex horoscope, gamble a winning shot machine or lotto, and a newspaper that says Bigfoot stole another wife. They sell a book of baby names for 10 bucks. Hey guess what you already got a huge one at home for free: the phone book.

Female hygiene. I think it's so unfair you ladies get a whole aisle to yourselves. guys have to share theirs with band aids, and motor oil. I view the huge selections of the douche, and i see lemon flavored, then i see vinegar Same flavors that go on fish. I'm just saying. I did see hand lotion in the "men's" section. I'm just saying.

It did however say on it, "best for skin".

And here's some odorless deodorant. Hey great, Ill smell like nothin', and it'll cost me 10 bucks. Wait, why do pregnancy tests come in multi packs? Don't people believe the first one, or is it the "ho" pack?

The cheese products are nasty. And screw the "cheese food", which isn't real cheese at all, but might be "real (tm)" cheese...which just confuses everyone who isn't lactose intolerant. You got the following: cheese nips, cheese logs, cheese balls, cheese puffs, cheese whizz. I like to get some of each then go home and put whizz on my nips, balls and log. This might be too much info. Carry on...

Pet aisle. They got 300 flavors of cat food but no...bird, squirrel, mouse head or stinky sock? I ate catfood once when I was tired and thought that the Tinder Viddels box was Cheerios's. Took just one milky taste to wake my ass up. Cats like this?! Thats what a dead sparrow tastes like?

Frozen foods. They got "new york brand" Texas toast. Well then, it ain't Texas toast, now is it? It's new york friken toast. And, why are all diet products triple chocolate fudge flavored? Shouldn't they be carrot or lettuce flavored. That's kinda like heroin flavored methadone.

I find it racist that we still have a section called "mexican food". So, I guess, if i see a mexican person I'm supposed to go up to them and say, "NO, NO Pedro. Your food is over there...". I did see an asian section with loads of noodles, so I think human rights are catching up. Someday, I have a dream of selections for Swedes and Canadians, with flaming meatballs and backbacon, smokes, and poutine (look it up, it's so gross that it makes blood sausage look edible).

Then again, black people complain that Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben don't represent them. But seriously, what do we have? The Quaker oats guy, Orville Riddenbacker and the brawny towel guy? A geek, a guy from outer space and a seventies porn star! And you see cool mags like Ebony, but no magazines called "Whitebread Dork" or "Cracker Slacker". I guess just that markets are against affirmative action.

I just passed by a woman with a loaf of wonder bread in her cart and some tins of Whisker Lickin's. I guess she's making catfood sandwiches tonight. And it reminds me I'm here to buy food.

They have spaghetti sauce that is labelled, "flavored with meat"... But what kind of meat? Snake meat? Rat meat? Human meat, like that finger found in the V8? One thing I do have to say: I tried Buffalo meat. Oh. My. God. That was so good! I just knew something as cute and cuddly and fuzzy, had to taste delicious!

"Little Debbie" snack cakes? I mean if she eats this stale sugary crap, she'd be really big fat toothless diabetic Debbie with pink eye and a few missing toes.

And I'm now standing in the market with a full basket of stuff I didn't need, and I totally forgot why I came here in the first place. Dammit...

The Kitten Sisters

I woke up and the two gorgeous ladies were no longer sleeping next to me. So I get up and walk to the kitchen and ask as I round the corner with a smile over inner joy, "Where's my girls?"...

And I am welcomed by the sight of a sleek black kitten sliding to a stop in front of me, quickly followed by a tiger striped kitten half the size, colliding next to her adopted sibling. They mew and prance as they await the morning meal and social event before I have to go to work.

And that's mainly what I've been doing the last month: Watching the two little charges, coming to their rescue while their original parents figure things out. You see, my friend Nikki and her roommate Christine got a kitten, simply because Christine wanted to have a cutie kitty face to rub. This sort of reminds me of those stupid high school girls that want to get pregnant just so they can have a living "doll" to dress up, as they think that would be so cool and cute.

Surprise. Taking care of living things is hard work.

Well, the tiny black kitten rightfully gravitated towards Nikki and her sparkling warm and open personality. So, Christine later got another kitten to be hers. And, guess what happened? When you're a person who can't illicit a real human emotion, pets tend to not wanna hang with you after a while. I suggest fish next time, they can't run away.

Anyway, somehow, thier apartment overlords somehow found out that these fur faces were illegally squatting at thier pad. So, of course, like usual I was called to come to the rescue, and have the kitten sisters live with me for a while.

At first I didn't want too, in fact I was very pissed about it and disn't really know why I was very resistant to the idea. I'd watched the tiny blackie for a week once: she ate my earphones. But, dammit, I did it for my brilliant friend Nikki, and the kittens came to me.

After a week, I knew exactly why I didn't want the sisters. It hit me when I was sitting in my chair, with two feline children asleep in my lap: I really fell in love with them and didn't want them to go. Maybe it was the times we played together with balls of foil or random items. Or the times I refereed their long wrestling matches. Usually the wee one would jump her older sister, and I'd either have to brake them apart when the "uncle" mewing started, to making sure that the fight was fair.

"Be nice to your little sister!", "Well, you're going to be pinned if you're the one who jumped her. She is bigger than you!"

Maybe it was the quiet time when they'd both be asleep in perfect little balls. One on the computer table resting her head on my typing hand, making me spam the letter "Q" all over my text, and the tiniest one curled up between my feet, as she was too young to jump as high as the chair seat.

Maybe it was the good time when they'd stalk me and pounce with such exuberance, that I laughed out loud.

Maybe it was the time the girls started to sleep next to me at night and I woke up to the sensation of an adolescent feline suckling my ear. Just like that, I had been adopted as their mommy.

The mornings were always wonderfully the same. Woke up, fed them, cleaned out the catbox while they sat next to each other and watched. Called them to me before I left for work and gave them both a hug. "..be good little ladies, okay? I'll be back in a few hours." I'd think about them while doing my job, and then be greeted with a cuddle fest when I came home and asked, "Were are my girls?!"

But the day I was hoping would never come, came. Nikki and Christine were going their separate ways, and Christine wanted to take her cat back. The sisters were going to be going away, and be split up, never to see each other again. And, I'll never see them again either. Even now, thinking about their tiny broken hearts makes me sad.

They'll never sleep next to each other, or feel the others presence. The elder sister was starting to really get into grooming her baby sibling, and even helping her cover her kitty poo with litter: she was teaching her how to be a lady. And the baby girl was growing up before my eyes so fast! A handfull became two, in no time. And she even managed her greatest feat, to leap upon the chair seat to join the rest of her family.

And that family is broken apart.

I know Nikki will take great care of the black one, now named "Gigi" (who, the entire time, I refused to call the original name Christine came up with. Who names a pretty girl cat "Chester"?!), and maybe I'll visit them soon. She's grown to quite a beautiful sleek lady. And to her credit, Nikki was as heart broken as I was, and understood.

The tiger striped baby kat... I have no real idea how she's doing. Last I heard, she was given to someone else. I think about the little mewing often, as I am still cleaning up the stray litter grains sprinkled about.

I think about both the kitten sisters, and how empty my place has become.

Bad Movie Review: Disaster Movie

I haven't done a Bad Movie Review in such a long time. It's probably because, usually I love bad movies. I love the attempt at trying to be great on a shoestring budget. The overacting in place of talent. Bad costumes with the glimmer of hope that maybe, the audience wont notice.

But. Sometimes, there comes a movie that dares us to sit through it, while it slaps the intelligence out of you.

I saw Disaster Movie. And how well named this movie is! So, I am now planning to find who made this movie, and going back in time to make sure they can never be born and poison my mind like they did. I used to have such a beautiful mind.

For the sake of your own lives, I will now tell the entire movie, in the hope that you'll never have to suffer such as I did. Spoilers be damned, this is compassion that I do this for all of you.

While watching the movie, I noticed that the filmmakers were so much in love with their genius, that they actually edited in 30 second pauses after each joke, as to allow the people in the audience time to catch their breath and fully recover from the obvious conniption fit of laughter that must be issuing forth from them. How thoughtful. Although, it came off in the theater as mournful moment of silence in honor of the humor that just died. I did hear some children laugh at the two minute belching joke. I'm guessing these are the kind of children that laugh at their feet.

And so the motion picture begins:

The movie starts out with the audience disappointingly getting their hopes up that they wont be wasting two hours of their lives. It also begins with a 10000 BC sequence. the "comedy" starts with a falling into dinosaur poop joke. Our main character (i really can't say "hero", as this no name actor has the presence of wood glue). He runs through bushes, and gets into an American Gladiator joke for no apparent reason that goes on far too long. He then runs into Amy Whinehouse...

How do we know it's Amy Whinehouse? Because whenever a imitation of some kind of current pop culture bad imitation, SOMEone always says something like, "Hey! It's Amy Whinehouse!". To which the said identified person will say "It's me! Amy Whinehouse!!!"

Anyway, She goes on way too long and we got the joke minutes ago. She produces a crystal scull from between her legs (an ongoing theme, as you see), and says if this skull doesn't return to it's proper place, disaster will befall the earth...and our movie begins!

...as our hero (dammit...), wakes up from this dream. Yeah, it's a dream opening of the jokes the "writers couldn't figure out how to place in the rest of the movie. He brakes up with his girlfriend who leaves him and...I even started to taste a little vomit here as I recalled this moment...leaves him and takes the midget. That's the joke. And I'm guessing the producers thought this was such comedy gold, they have an entirely different midget joke later. But I digress...

The hero has a (joke) MTV sweet sixteen party for himself where (joke) he meets the guys from Superbad, where is best friend/funny black jive-ass sidekick does some (joke) Wanted shtick with the real Kim Kardashian and Carmen Electra where they (joke) wrestle in a dream sequence yet again, and then (joke) a High School Musical number plays out entire parody songs...

Interspersed within all this are more and more side jokes. I also realized that these...writers...were making "funnies" on the trailers of all these movies! They never saw any on these actual movies of these parodies they're doing! Oh, and you've just saw the biggest stars of the pic: A chick whose claim to fame is being rich and a boring sex tape, and Ms. Electra, who'll do anything for a cig and a ride home afterwards. Ask Dennis Rodman.

Back to the epic! The ground shakes and (joke) Cloverfield like destruction starts. So, Mr. Wood Glue, talentless Kim, Jive-ass Sidekick, and (joke) the preggo kid from Juno, try to find Wood Glues girlfriend and stay alive. By the way, we've wasted almost an hour of movie before ANY disasters happen, not counting the actual existence of this celluloid piece of crap. Wind and tornadoes. Yes. That's our marque named disaster.

While they're walking about in the streets trying to get... somewhere... They run into, (joke) the Hulk who loses his pants and (joke) gets hit by a cow, pass (Joke) "Hey! It's Hannah Montana! Who gets crushed by a meteor, who turns out to be (joke) "Hey! It's Miley Cyrus! Meet (joke) the princess from Enchanted, run into (joke) the Sex in the City girls, do the exact jokes from (joke) Don't Mess with the Zohan...

Que dream sequence numbah three! (joke) Jumper, and (joke) Prince Caspian. back to the waking world...

Then meet (joke) the Chipmunks.

Who sing not one, not two, but THREE full fricken songs! With shots of our protagonists enjoying them all. They attack and kill most our heroes, and the whole of human culture thanks them. But unfortunately, Wood-Glue, Jive-ass, and Enchanted escape, and are headed to the (joke) Night at the Museum, where Gluey's GF works. So our group (joke) steals Speed Racers Mach five (which looks nothing like the Mach 5) . Oh yeah, (joke) "Hey! it's Batman!"

Enter the museum where the girlfriend is rescued, produces a Crystal Skull from between HER thighs and says they need to replace the skull in this very museum to save the world. To get from A to B, (joke) Beowulf attacks them, Kung-fu Panda attacks them. And they get to the Crystal Skull room where...

oh Jesus. Midget number two. a tiny black Indiana Jones.

Okay, i'm sick of all this crap. needless to say, as if anyone cares, they replace the skull. and people pour out of the theater angry they've just spent hard earned cash that could have been spent way more satisfying, paying a hobo to beat you with a dead rat behind a dumpster.

the end.

And just as some kind of redemption to myself, I didn't pay to see this. No one should.

I have just saved your soul.

Secrets of the Male Species

Seeing as that I don't have many guy friends and don't fully subscribe to the male-mind set of misogynistic buffoonery, I feel I might be the only outlet to the other half of the human race for the secrets of the male mind.

And seeing as i'm totally clueless about females of any type. I'm kinda hoping for an information exchange.

yeah. I'm a traitor to my gender. But, we're guys. We can get into a fight about something, totally forget about it when we see a nice looking girl, then forget what it was all about and go have a beer and talk sports, or boobs, or whatever.

1) the man-hug

It's a written rule from back in Roman times that a man to man hug last exactly 2 seconds or less...and no more. You are not allowed to swoon, cry, close eyes, or sigh. You place your hands, closed fingers, in the middle of the back and pat continuously (i.e. no rubbing!!!), and you don't place your chin on the others guys shoulder. You also do not stroke his hair.

2) "WOOOOOT!!!"

When humans are just babies, to get attention, they would cry. While women grow out of this, males evolve the screeching wail, into one word: "wooooooooooot!" This is usually answered with a pack mentality amongst nearby males, and accompanied with the pumping of a fist into the air. Don't believe me? Go to a MTV event at a beach and watch when a bikinied girl walks by. Watch a sports event of any type. Witness a drunken frat party. It's a species war cry that transends all other drives. I think it's the same urge that fuels dogs to occasionally eat their own poop.

3) Boxers or briefs?

Actually, it's three choices: Tighty Whities, boxer-briefs, and boxers.

Tighty Whities should only be worn by pre-teens, and that's it. End of story. If you date any guy, and you find out he's wearing white "panities", he needs to grow up. No guy looks good in tighty-whities. Even those male models you see in wal-mart and target ads look...odd, with their perfect hair and flashing smiles as two guys are wearing nothing but white Haynes and sharing a pillow fight. And if you notice, they're as smooth as a Ken doll. Somehing to think about.

Boxers. I just don't get those. It's like wearing an ass cape with a waistband. Whats even worse is the guys trying to look "street" by wearing low cut pants exposing some very rumpled boxers. Not a sexy sight, many women tell me. And wearing the voluminous boxers is like throwing a hot dog in a shoebox: no protection in any shape or form. Bits get crushed and are all a-sway in very unflattering ways.

Now the way to go for all guys are the Boxer-briefs: the hybrid of all the forms of pantinones! has the security of the thightys without being that tight, and the coverage of boxers without looking like you're wearing your dads underwear.

Oh, and never buy white in any form. Men can't maintain a whiteness in any cloth. The most we can manage is a dull yellow.

And whats with the 1000's of panties that women get to choose from in specialized stores? Unlimited designs and cuts! What we guys get is a 3-pack on sale at Target.

4) An ongoing list of words no man should use, ever.

Garment --- Periwinkle --- Magical --- Supple --- Duvet --- Precious --- Faaaabulous --- Adore --- Lavender --- Mommy or Daddy --- Scootch --- Weewee --- "teeheehee" ---

5) Urinal commandments

No excessive or undue conversation in the restroom. Keep eyes forward whenever possible, if you have to, go into a trance and stare at the tile in front of you, or admire the urinal cake intensely Always close the stall door, even when going #1. If you have an option, never use the urinal right next to a man who is already "underway". Never talk to another man while your junk is hanging out. Never discuss shape. Never say "ooooooh...impressive...".

I'll be leaking more information soon. Every pun intended.